The Charm Bracelet(64)

Lolly stopped, her voice quaking along with her sequins. “There is no one else in the world like you, my beautiful girl. No one. Please know that. You are made up of so many dimensions. Now it’s just up to you to let the world see that beauty.”

Arden began to cry, without warning, her tears a downpour, a sudden thunderstorm of emotion.

“There, there,” Lolly said, comforting her daughter, holding her tightly. “There’s no need for tears. Why don’t you go write?” she added, brightening. “Just go sit and write. Lauren knows clearly who she wants to be. No one tells her to paint. She just paints. Remember when you used to write because you loved it?”

Arden sat straight up.

“Are you okay?” Lolly asked.

“Yes!” Arden replied. “I am!”

“Are you off to write?”

“I am,” Arden said, standing. “But I have to do something first. Where’s your paper and scissors?”

“What? Why?” Lolly asked, before seeing the determination in her daughter’s face. “In the kitchen. Junk drawer.”

Arden gathered her materials, sat in front of the living room fireplace, and made a blizzard of snowflakes for her mother, which the pair then hung in the cabin’s windows.

And then Arden sat on the dock and wrote until dusk, until the dragonflies called her home for dinner, summer snowflakes twinkling in the cabin’s lights.





part nine




The Shooting Star Charm

To a Life in Which You Are Lucky in Love





Thirty-four




Arden yawned in sync with Lauren, their eyes fluttered, and then their heads dipped, until their chins were resting on their chests.

Lolly clapped, waking her dozing daughter and granddaughter with the subtlety of an earthquake, their eyes shooting open in alarm.

“Here, girls, have some more coffee,” Lolly said, rushing into the kitchen and returning with a pot of coffee. “You can’t go to sleep yet!”

Arden looked at her watch and slumped deeper into the couch. “It’s nearly eleven o’clock, Mom. I need to be in bed, not chugging caffeine. Do you really think this is such a good idea?”

Lolly filled the three mugs sitting on the coffee table in front of the fireplace and turned to look at her daughter. “There has never been a better idea, my dear,” she said with complete conviction. “We may never have the chance to see the Northern Lights again together.”

Lauren shook her head and said, “You’re right, Grandma. I’ve heard about them my whole life. Now it’s the right time to see them. Together!”

Lolly smiled. “It’s a perfect night. Clear as a bell. The weatherman says it might not happen again for a while. Wanna help me with some snacks?”

Lauren nodded. “Grab us some sweatshirts, my dear,” Lolly said to Arden. “It’ll be chilly on the beach, especially if we have to wait awhile.”

Arden considered protesting what she felt was likely a wild-goose chase, but her mother’s face said there would be no discussion. Instead, Arden nodded, too, and grabbed some sweatshirts.





Thirty-five




Lolly, Arden, and Lauren were stretched out on a giant quilt, lying side by side, staring up at the starry sky, the sound of the waves from Lake Michigan lulling them into a trance.

There was an out-of-body experience to being on the beach at night. A few other hearty stargazers were camped out on the sand, but no one had lit a fire or had flashlights shining. Everyone was waiting for the show, almost reverential in anticipation of what might occur.

“It’s so dark and quiet out here,” Lauren said. “In Chicago, there’s always light—streetlights, headlights, apartment lights—and noise from people, airplanes, sirens, the highway, the city.”

“That’s why it’s so perfect to see the Northern Lights here,” Lolly said. “There is no pollution in the sky to hide the show. And you can see from heaven to earth, and east to west, forever.”

Seeing the Northern Lights in Michigan was akin to seeing Bigfoot, Arden thought. Everyone in Michigan said they had seen them at some point in their lives, but few could ever offer up specifics, or even a great photo.

Arden had studied the Northern Lights in science class. If she remembered her studies well enough, the Northern Lights—or aurora borealis—were a natural light phenomenon in the sky, mostly seen in high latitudes. They were named after the Roman goddess of dawn (Aurora) and the Greek god of the north wind (Boreas) by Galileo. The Northern Lights are the result of collisions of gaseous particles in the earth’s atmosphere with charged particles released from the sun. The effect was akin to a 3-D kaleidoscopic light display in the sky. The light displayed in many colors and forms, including shades of green, pink, red, yellow, blue, and violet—in arcs, streamers, rippling curtains, and shooting rays that lit up the sky in an eerie, otherworldly glow.

The three stared into the sky. “Isn’t this exciting?” Lolly asked, her voice high.

“Are you sure this is going to happen, Mom?” Arden asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Oh, it’ll happen,” Lolly said, grabbing Arden’s and Lauren’s hands in the dark. “When you least expect it. It’s like love. You just have to be patient and then—BOOM!—you see lights.”